Half Human
by Michael Atkins
Summary: A continuation of the story of Sela, Tasha Yar's half-Romulan daughter, told through a meeting with Voyager's B'Elanna Torres


Logic would dictate that her captors were Romulan. She was, after all, in Romulan space when she'd been captured. However, it was not a Romulan ship that had locked its tractor beam on her little Maquis scout.

And her... accommodation... was certainly not the type that Romulans would provide a prisoner. Though it was small, it was well appointed. Effort had been made to make the inhabitant of the space as comfortable as possible. The room was dominated by a king-size bed; on her first night captive, Klingon strength and temper had caused her to tear the mattress apart, leaving the room a mess of springs and feathers. Still, there was the en suite with sonic shower, and a food replicator, both of which she'd refused to use, at first. And on the wall hung a black velvet painting of a Klingon Bird of Prey, its wings in tactical formation; its disruptor cannons glowing vibrant red, indicating they were charged.

The art was made to incite emotion, calling for its own destruction. But she could not let her captors have the satisfaction of seeing her follow that obvious path. So the painting remained safe and intact.

After about two weeks the replicator broke her, and she ate her first meal in captivity. Still wanting to maintain her stubborn deference to the facilities she'd demanded of it a meal of white bread and corned beef, with a glass of water. Protein, fibre, and little else. The utilitarian meal that her father always packed for their camping trips, on the off chance that they did not catch anything tastier to eat. But they always did.

The meal materialised as four buttered slices and a soft grey cylindrical mound of meat. Hungrily she shoved a fistful of meat into her mouth. She immediately choked, as muscles that had grown unaccustomed to swallowing solids failed. She drank the water, relieving her some, but as chunks of food was washed free from her throat, and hit her stomach she began to cramp. Doubled over with pain, she dropped the glass and had to demand more water from the replicator.

"Water..." she rasped at it "now!" "Yes, B'elanna. I thought you must be hungry. Is there anything else I can get you?" she immediately forgot her suffering as she stared wide-eyed at the hole in the wall that had just addressed her by name.

A fresh glass of water materialised, but she ignored it.

"Who are you!" she shouted at the machine.

"I am a food replicator, programmed with both the human and klingon cuisine."

"Don't play dumb you stupid fucking machine. You know what I mean. WHY AM I HERE'?" She threw a punch with a force that would've surely cracked the machine's interface had a forcefield not formed momentarily to deflect the force. She cried out in pain as her fist hit the crackling forcefield. She cradled her aching fist as pain radiated from the fist through her forearm. An ice pack materialised, she spat on it and winced once more in pain.

Behind her the door opened. The first time she'd seen it do that, and a Romulan woman entered, alone. They must've seen that she was broken, at east enough to eat. B'Elanna lunged at the woman but froze as she drew her disruptor. "I don't want to use this", the woman said in the replicator's voice.

"Are you going to tell me why I am here" B'Elanna asked' shaking with rage.

"I just want to talk" the woman said. "My name is Sela, and I want us to be friends. Have you ever heard the Earth expression 'the enemy of my enemy…'?"

There was a long pause only broken when B'Elanna came to the realisation that the question was serious. Then she laughed. An explosive wheeze of a laugh that broke into a wince as she remembered the pain in her fist. But Sela was unfazed by her reaction. She sat down on the wrecked mattress, and was about to pat the space next to her, to invite B'Elanna to sit with her. But that space was nothing but a bent and exposed spring. B'Elanna remained standing.

"The Empire likes the Maquis. We like anything that makes life hard for the federation. And you make life very hard for them too. And the Cardassians. You make any kind of alliance between the Federation and Cardassians impossible. And _we_ have an expression: 'a divided opposition is no opposition at all'.

"Is this going where I think it's going?" B'Elanna asked. "I don't believe it. They're never going to this back in the badlands".

"But what if we did more than just like you from afar?" Sela asked, as if she had not heard B'Elanna's incredulousness.

"I'm going to stop you right there, before you waste any more breath… I can't believe I have to explain this. We _don't_ have a common enemy. _Our_ enemy is the Federation, _yours_ is all of humanity. The Maquis is mostly human… I'm human… We're not going to…."

"Are you human though?", Sela interrupted.

Sela paused for her question to sink in. B'Elanna's lip quivered.

"Look at me", Sela said. "I want you to look at my face. Have you ever seen a blonde Romulan before?"

"I've not met many Romulans period. I'm smart enough to avoid you people".

"...My mother was human" Sela continued "…a security officer in Starfleet."

"So what?" B'Elanna asked. You think we're going to be friends, just because we're both half-breeds?"

Sela continued undeterred. "I am a loyal officer of the empire, and the best strategist they have. I betrayed my own mother for the empire. I should be an admiral". Sela was lost in reverie, staring into a distance a few feet to the right of B'Elanna's head.

"You think I'm going to sympathise with your little thwarted ambition? You're intelligence can't be up to much if you don't know that humans accept all kinds. All species." B'Elanna replied.

She'd lied, of course. An unnecessary lie. A stupid and transparent one. Because Sela had gotten under her skin. She blamed the lapse in judgement on hunger. She folded a slice of buttered bread and ate it. Chewing slowly and carefully, while trying to look casual.

"Yes. we know all about on the Federation's purported values. We also have intelligence on individuals, officers and cadets, current and former.  
Besides, all humanoids are the same. Human, Romulan, Klingon, Cardassian. We're even all related, any exo-biologist can tell you that. We're all the same, unless you happen to be different"

B'Elanna managed a swallow. "Yes. Humanoids are terrible people. We should all go off and die. Now why should this pathetic self-pity session lead to an alliance where we - freedom fighters, mind you - help the empire to its manifest destiny?"

"I was wrong to think you'd get it" Sela said wistfully, standing up to leave.

"Get what?" B'Elanna said, curious in spite of herself.

"This isn't about me fighting the Federation, or you fighting the Cardassians", Sela said, one hand on the door controls. "This is about us fighting everyone who was too afraid to tell us we didn't fit in, but not too afraid to keep us out".

"So this is about more than imperial conquest, it's about your wounded ego. Real convincing. Ever thought of being a diplomat?"

"The diplomatic corps wouldn't have me" Sela said bitterly' turning away from the door. "I'll cut to the chase" she said, taking a deep breath and preparing for one last push. "An alliance between us wouldn't just be a smart military move. It would be an absolute coup. A Romulan-armed Maquis would render the Federation impotent…"

"So we're back to imperial conquest…."

"Shut up and hear me out!" Sela demanded, her face contorted in anger. "The high command thinks such an alliance is impossible. You said it yourself, 'why would you help us? But if I can pull this off, the empire will never doubt me again."

B'Elanna moved to interrupt her again, but Sela preemptively cut her off, moving in closer. They were about the same height, and Sela captured B'Elanna's stare with her own.

"And that's just the first step. A loyal officer who'd done the impossible would be sure to make general. A half-breed general could remake the empire. Remake it into something that would accept people like us. Don't you see, I am hurt, sure, but this is not about me, or you, it's about everyone like us. And once we restore Romulan hegemony to the Alpha quadrant, it won't just be the empire where people like us are accepted. Under a Romulan yoke, the Federation pay you the respect that the Empire will pay me. The respect that we've deserved all along".

B'Elanna bit her lip.


End file.
